


you and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals

by Summer_Pond



Series: Pining Chronicles [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Centaur Shiro, Childhood Friends, First Meetings, M/M, Mutual Pining, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, harpy Lance, lamia Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 22:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13467570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summer_Pond/pseuds/Summer_Pond
Summary: The harpy babbles out, “Please don’t eat me.” The request is pleaded from the creature, tears framing the feathered species’ terrified eyes.Keith perhaps could have reassured the creature by explaining that he only ate rabbits or small game. Even could have told that he had never caught anything bigger than a boar, and the harpy was the first human hybrid he had met.Instead he responded with, “You don’t look like you’ll fill me up anyway. You’re too skinny.”Naturally, the harpy bawls.





	you and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals

**Author's Note:**

> technically lamia and harpy are female creatures, but artistic license alright?

He gets woken up by rapid pulls to his hunting trap, vibrations stringing along the trees and muffled squabbling through the foliage. He shakes his head; nap being interrupted as he pushes himself off his grass threaded bed. His massive ruby-red scaly tail pushes forward as he slithers out from his barren cave.

 

The sunshine hits his cooling body and he takes a moment to enjoy the warmth, letting it sink into his human torso. It’s uplifting and energizing and Keith takes the time for the rays to be soaked into his cold-blooded body as he immerses himself in the tranquillity. He hears the wind whistle through the shrubbery, the slight sound of the rushing river near the cave he calls home and…the whacks and noises coming from his trap. Keith narrows his eyes.

 

Just when did his prey talk?

 

Annoyed and irritation in his mouth he slithers forward, moving across the jagged pebbled terrain to the outside, where it transitions into soft grass of his habitant. He hears the prey much before he sees what it is, the indignant yells almost make Keith wish he was deaf as it cascades over him. High-pitched and striking, Keith suddenly grows resentment for his human ears and the range of decibels he can take. 

 

Stuck in his trip-wire trap is a young male harpy. The creature is hanging upside down, kicking and swinging to try and dislodge himself from the tight grip around his lower limb. The harp’s wings are a lovely shade of blue, the base from the shoulders darker navy, with flecks of white spots and it gradients to a light hue to the creature’s winged tips. Plumage covering the crotch of the creature for decency purposes, opening up with exposed thighs that end with clawed legs swinging about, a shade lighter than the tan skin of the harpy. Keith has never seen a harpy in the flesh before, only been exposed to the creatures through whispers and folktales. It takes a second for him to realize he has a living, breathing harpy caught in his trap.

 

The harpy stops struggling, with ocean eyes widening and horror taking over the beautiful creature’s features. The harpy squawks, flapping his wings several times to appear intimidating.

 

“H-hey..! What’s all this business about!” The melodic voice coming from the harpy makes Keith intrigued. Its soft, yet has a hidden urgency and commanding tone complementing it. Keith thinks he likes it.

 

“You’re stuck in a trap. More specifically a hunting trap. Mine to be exact.” Keith smoothly replies, his curiosity piqued.

 

That appears to be a bad answer as the harpy pales and renews an even more vicious kicking attack in the air, making him start to swing back and forth. The action only makes the grip around the tan thighs worse and the wire begins to dig into the skin, drawing blood as it starts to pinch the flesh. The harpy starts to wail, the harmonic tune transforming into ugly shrieks and Keith winces.

 

“Wait, stop your yelling.” Keith bellows out, pointing at the wiggling harpy. “You’re making your situation worse.”

 

The harpy babbles out, “Please don’t eat me.” The request is pleaded from the creature, tears framing the harpy’s terrified eyes.

 

Keith perhaps could have reassured the creature by explaining that he only ate rabbits or small game. Even could have told that he had never caught anything bigger than a boar, and the harpy was the first human hybrid he had met.

 

Instead he responded with, “You don’t look like you’ll fill me up anyway. You’re too skinny.”

 

Naturally, the harpy bawls. “Please, I wouldn’t taste good at all! I’m all feathers, and I wouldn’t be worth the effort to pluck me clean!” The harpy rambles, the salty tears running down his forehead due to gravity, “Oh, sweet Gaia, what would Shiro even say if he knew I got myself into this situation. He must be so worried, and if I don’t come home today, he’ll be so distressed…”

 

Keith can now taste the anxiety radiating from the tied-up creature. It’s sour and Keith would rather it not pervade his taste buds. He glides forward and the other hybrid freezes from his struggle with a tear-stained face looking remorsefully sad and scared.

 

“Relax, I’m letting you loose from the trap so you can go.” Keith explains as his long tail starts to bunch underneath the harpy’s head, confusion permeating the atmosphere. The lamia moves close enough so that his face is next to the wire-wrapped thigh of the harpy and the former bares his teeth.

 

“You say that, but your actions reveal something else.” The harpy shoots back; words dripped in anger as the creature gets ticked off.

 

“Stop moving. I’m trying to help.” Keith snarls out and the harpy instinctually cowers and lets out a feeble squeak before going stationary. Keith carefully arranges himself until his teeth are touching the wire, and he nicks it, slicing through it without any trouble. The thin black material releases the surprised harpy who is cushioned on landing by the organic pillow made by Keith’s tail wrapped together. The harpy still seems to be in shock and Keith is almost amused by the situation until his eyes travel across the other hybrid’s body and sees splatters of blood.

 

“…you’re bleeding,” Keith points out and sees how the harpy follows the gaze to his thigh where drips of blood flow out from where the wire had been tied around. “Oh Zeus, you need to get that treated.”

 

“Uh,” The harpy starts looking at his wound, trying to sit up, but ends up just stumbling back onto Keith’s tail, “I…don’t think I can properly walk…”

 

“Hang on.” Keith remarks, and cups around the harpy’s slender shoulders and lifts the creature off his tail. “I’ll carry you.”

 

The harpy makes a shrill cry, near Keith’s sensitive ears, “Wah, wait a minute. You don’t need to do this!”

 

“Look, its my fault you’re hurt. I’m the one who set up the trap. Let me take responsibility and at least bandage it up.” Keith answers as he coasts across the grass and back to his hideout.

 

The harpy seems to accept the answer and goes quiet. Inside, Keith gently places the creature upon the threaded grass. The feathered creature is silent, preening his blue plume with nervousness, looking around the barren cave. Keith moves around, looking through his canvas bag filled with herbs and picking up some wooden jars with salves. Cradling the ingredients in his arms, Keith places it next to the harpy trying to make himself comfortable. Opening up the wooden jar, Keith dips his hand into a slimy texture that smells of flowers and rubs over the harpy’s injuries. The Avian hybrid croons in slight pain and Keith stops. “Sorry.”

 

“It’s okay. I just…wasn’t expecting you to be gentle.” The harpy responds.

 

“Just because I’m a predator doesn’t mean I’m bloodthirsty.” Keith curtly retorts.

 

“I didn’t mean that,” the harpy rapidly replies, “I just…thought you were going to eat me at first and now you’re bandaging my scratches.”

 

Keith scoffs, “Well, you’re the first Avian hybrid I’ve ever met.”

 

The harpy’s eyes widen and he gasps, “Wait. You’ve never met a harpy?”

 

Keith frowns, “Yeah. You’re the first.”

 

A softened look overcomes the harpy’s face. “I’m flattered. I feel sort of special now. My name’s Lance. What’s yours?”

 

“I’m Keith,” the lamia reciprocates, finishing his bandaging by wrapping some dried banana leaves around the wound. “Now you’re done.”

 

“Thanks.” Lance whispers and Keith gulps from the affectionate look on the harpy’s face.

 

Lance stretches his wings out and his legs, testing his flexibility with the extra weight. “Hmm, not sure if I can fly with this injury.”

 

Keith lets his forked tongue hiss out, trepidation oozing from his posture. “Would…you like to stay until you get better?” The request is laid out nonchalantly as Keith avoids Lance’s curious stare, but inwardly Keith is fretting. An offer for rest from a complete predator seemed too good to be true, at least if Keith put himself in Lance’s position.

 

Lance good-heartily smiles. “Thank you for your kind offer. But I should be fine, I wouldn’t want to push your generous hospitality.”

 

Keith winces at the back-handed compliment. If Lance put it that way, Keith was the whole reason for this scenario to occur.

 

Lance hums, the tune similar to tiny bells chiming on a warm day, drifting through the forest, rich and soothing. Keith thinks it could send him to a slumber. He glides across the cave, and drops on the empty spot next to the singing harpy.

 

Keith isn’t sure how much time floats by as he concentrates on the euphony unfolding next to him. He has heard stories of the dreadful shrieks from harpies: nauseating and soul-crushing. Nothing like has transpired (bar that initial interaction), and Keith feels odd about communicating with a live harpy in his home, flipping his knowledge about Avian hybrids upside down. 

 

“Honestly, this is the first time I’ve been caught in a trap.” Lance breaks his singing to peer at Keith. “So, you’re my first. Being able to hunt me properly that is.” The feathered boy confesses.

 

Keith creases his forehead, “Wait. Are you saying you get hunted often?”

 

The harpy stops his preening process, white tipped feathers rustling against tan cheeks, “Yes. It is a consistent event in my life.” The disclosure makes Lance droop, and Keith’s worry increases.

 

“Why are you being hunted?”

 

Lance purses his lips. “Perhaps I shall show you instead.”

 

With a flutter, Lance releases his wings, encasing Keith underneath the feathers. Confusion overlaying on Keith’s slitted eyes, his tongue slipping out to taste the tension imbued with sentimentality. The light that surrounds the cave is blanketed with darkness and Keith is perplexed. For a second Keith looks into nothing, then slowly, very slowly he sees twinkles, like pinpricks of ivory dots in a galaxy. The white speckles around Lance’s feathers seem to almost glow in the darkness, and Keith is awestruck as he watches the beauty underneath Lance’s feathers.

 

“You’re gorgeous.” Keith breathes out.

 

Lance preens, a sound that springs from his throat and flows out like honey. “Thanks. I get that a lot.”

 

Keith flushes, all hot embarrassment from his spontaneous compliment to Lance. He wants to dig himself into a hole and never come out.

 

_Clop Clop_

 

Keith narrows his eyes. There’s a disturbance outside his cave, he can feel the vibrations along the ground. “Wait here.” Keith mutters out as he slides out from Lance’s feathered embrace.

 

Keith feels the bright sun get absorbed into his skin again, but the stranger in front of him is new.

 

The new creature is stocky, with a shiny opal coat for the thick body with four horse hooves with one front tapping on the grass. Keith observes the naked torso of human pale skin with a brown satchel across the creature’s hips. There’s a tense expression held by the centaur, black eyebrows knitted together, black under-cut adorned with a headpiece of a bronze circlet that captures Keith’s attention. Royalty of some sort, he remembers.

 

“Pardon me, but have you seen a male harpy pass here.” The question is laid innocently enough, but Keith can hear the strong tone underneath. There’s a commanding allure to the centaur and Keith wants to avoid the pointed gaze.

 

“Yes.” Keith answers honestly.

 

“I see.” The centaur pauses. Then bows, and Keith is reminded of another centaur behaviour, respect. “Would I be able to see him?”

 

“You may.” Keith slithers back to his home and he can feel the centaur trotter behind.

 

“Lance,” Keith starts, “There’s someone here for you.”

 

Lance keens when he sees the centaur and Keith feels some jealousy rise.

 

“Shiro!” Lance croons, “Look I’m still alive.”

 

“You are.” The centaur smiles back, Shiro trots forward, eyes crinkling downwards when he notices the bandages. “What happened here?”

 

“I’m fine, really Shiro. Just a little accident.” Lance huffs, “You don’t have a thing to worry about, Keith here bandaged me up.” Keith realizes that Lance is wise enough to not mention the entire mess was started because of the lamia.

 

“I was worried sick when you left.” Shiro explains, “I didn’t expect to find you here…in a lamia’s place. Alive.”

 

The jab hurled at Keith does not go amiss, and he hisses.

 

“Shiro, no it’s nothing like that! Keith has been a much gracious host.” Lance interrupts, worried clicking escaping his mouth. “Promise, I’m okay.”

 

Shiro sighs, “Alright. But I’m taking you home now.”

 

Keith feels his throat constrict. Lance was going to go away.

 

Shiro moves forward and lowers himself until his back is presented to Lance. The harpy shuffles himself on top of the back of the centaur and the woodland hybrid rises to his full-height.

 

“I am grateful you have kept Lance safe.”

 

“Not a problem.” Keith forces out. Envious of how comfortable Lance appears, grabbing across the centaur’s torso.

 

The larger creature moves from the cave and Keith cautiously follows. His mind heavy, the tips of a goodbye on his lips. For a second the centaur stops, and Lances twirls his head around.

 

“Until we meet again Keith!” Lance shouts, waving one feathered arm, a grin so contagious that even Keith can feel his lips tugging to a weak smile.

 

Next time, Keith reminds himself.


End file.
